We Were Free
by Sebe
Summary: Spoilery for 6x11. Unstable!Sam. Souls are powerful, sought after things for a reason. Especially Sam's.


Author's Notes: There was never any sign of power-usage with Soulless!Sam, right? And he would've had no problem with it. Well, now Sam's had his soul back for a bit and the only thing that's freaked him out is how Dean's been watching him so closely. Big brother's waiting for the inevitable and he's not going to be disappointed. The wall in Sam's mind is coming down hard and now that Sam's his re-souled self, he remembers what he'd learned in the Cage, what Dean should've known. Powers aren't connected to the body and souls are powerful, sought-after things for a reason.

OR

The quickly vacillating emotions of a hell-freed little brother and an overprotective big brother.

Other Sam babbly transcribey notes can be found at the bottom.

Summary: Spoilery for 6x11. Souls are powerful, sought after things for a reason. Especially Sam's.

**We Were Free**

"Sam?" Dean held his hands up, moving painfully slow towards his brother. Every instinct told him to lunge, grab Sam, make sure he couldn't hurt himself, but the small part of his brain that wasn't panicking knew that wasn't a good idea. So he kept moving steadily closer, like he was trying to catch a wild animal. "Sammy, it's okay."

"No, no, no, no, no…" Sam groaned. He stopped his manic pacing and wedged himself back into a corner, slinking down the wall.

Dean cursed to himself and bit his cheek. He thought he'd have more time. This wasn't supposed to happen. It was too soon, too soon…It was always too soon to lose Sammy.

Dean was crouched back on his haunches now, only a few feet separating him from Sam. He was still cautious with his motions, but slowly lowered his hands to a more casual position; trying to tell himself that this was normal, that it was going to be okay and Sammy was going to be fine. Belatedly, he realized he was comforting himself when he was supposed to be comforting Sam.

"Sammy?" The fine tremor in his voice probably wasn't helping much, but he couldn't help it. "Sammy, it's gonna-"

"What did you do?"

Dean was surprised. Sam sounded almost lucid, which was more than Dean had been hoping for. He wasn't screaming or trying to tear his own skin off. He sounded disappointed, grieved…pissed.

"You let it happen again." Sam let his head tilt back and hit the wall behind him. Dean managed to stop himself from flinching as his brother thumped and rolled his head back and forth against the plaster. He wanted to reach for him, stop him, but he didn't want to risk breaking this relative calm. "You played right into their hands just the way they wanted."

"No. No, Sam, we're out." Dean was certain of that if nothing else. Their lives might still be…complicated, but they were done with the apocalypse hanging over their heads. "No Lucifer or Michael. No destiny…we're free, man."

Sam leveled Dean with a look that the other couldn't put his finger on before Sam bit his lip, trying to stop little laughs from rushing forward. He failed miserably and only ended up with a bloody lip for his efforts. Intermittent chuckles turned into deep laughter. Dean's brow pinched together in worry. Sam lolled his head forward and covered his mouth with his hand, trying to stop. After a few minutes, he mostly managed it and smiled ruefully at Dean, pityingly.

"Like in our games. Demons beat monsters and angels beat demons and sometimes…sometimes…humans beat angels…humans beat them all. Rock, paper, scissors. Monsters, demons, angels, but not like our games. There's a fourth player they weren't expecting, that they didn't think mattered." Sam moved in closer to Dean, like he was telling him a secret he didn't want their father to hear up in the front seat. "Don't you know why? Everything you've seen now? What we can do?"

Sam looked at him hard, waiting for an answer that Dean had no idea how to give. Sam huffed and the intense look on his face morphed. He leaned back a bit, crossing his arms like an irritated child, muttering, "Always did throw scissors."

Dean floundered helplessly, he didn't know what Sam was talking about, but he remembered the promise he'd made to himself to help Sam whenever everything…went south. He knew he was gonna help his brother, so that's where he'd start. Dean leaned forward, still just shy of touching Sam, unsure of how he'd react, especially now. He'd seen the kid cycle through at least four different emotions in the last few minutes.

"Sammy? I don't know what you're talking about, but if you explain it…" Dean put every emotion he had into his words. There was no way he was letting Sam go through whatever this was alone. "I can help. I'll find a way. I'll-"

And Sam was laughing again. Great. Dean couldn't help but feel a bit put off. He was really laying it all out there in a 'heart-on-his-sleeve' way that only Sam seemed able to bring out of him; really trying.

"You can't help. You've already done most of your part. Got me out." Sam kept giggling, but the irritation drained out of Dean at the tears in his brother's eyes; at the look in them. Helplessness and anger.

"We win because we have what they don't. Most powerful things ever. Everybody's different, but some are really…special. Strong." Sam nodded, deciding that was the right word. At Dean's look, he tried harder, focused more. Sam tried to smile for his brother, genuinely, quieting the laughter still shaking him a bit. "Souls, Dean. We have souls."

Dean let the silence seep in along with the bare beginnings of understanding, horror twisting in Dean's gut. Sam pulled back a bit. He seemed drained, seemed more frail somehow even though his physical appearance hadn't changed; like conveying this message to Dean had taken everything left out of him. Sam covered his eyes with his hands, like blocking out the light could block out everything he didn't want to face, want them to face, all over again.

"Powers aren't tied to the body. The body is nothing. Just a shell." Dean found a bit of solace in his brother agreeing that he had been right. Sam hadn't been Sam. "Power's in the soul. And some are a lot stronger than others…" Sam drifted off, smiling, eyes still hidden. "…plotting great and terrible things…"

"Sam." Dean called out gently, reaching out, but still just shy of touching. He didn't want to jolt his brother, hurt him in anyway, but this was going to be important. He had a nose for world-changing revelations at this point.

Sam uncovered his eyes, instead just resting his head in his hands.

"…I didn't need the feather…intrinsic." The irritation in his voice was turning to quiet anger. But Dean's little brother had always been angry, had always had a right to be really, they both did. And he wasn't budging. If Sam wanted to lash out, he wasn't gonna let that scare him off. "I was out…I was free and screaming and torn apart into so many pieces…but I was free."

Dean felt his stomach roll at the first words Sam had spoken about the Cage.

"I was free! I was out of their reach!" Sam exploded like Dean knew he would, but he didn't make any move to harm Dean. Dean thought maybe they'd both been hurt too much by each other and neither could stand to inflict anymore pain.

"They couldn't use me anymore! Couldn't use _us_! Dean-" Sam collapsed all at once, strength drained out of him. He clutched onto Dean's shirt as the older brother held on tight. "…What have you done? Why? We were free…"

Sam was begging and pulling at every heartstring Dean had. Except the altruistic one that reminded him that Sam would have suffered horribly for eternity. The selfish one that said he'd have been alone forever even if he had managed to have a 'family'.

Dean was sure Sam didn't have any kind of powers when he had been…not Sam. That bastard would have used them any chance he got, obliterated everything in his way. But if they were back now, with Sam's soul…oh, this was gonna get bad. Angelic civil wars, odd monster behavior, psycho, probably vengeful, relatives on the loose, and Death himself pushing them toward something again…

Yeah, no doubt they were coming after Sam if they had even the slightest inkling that he had his powers back. Because that was just how their life went, wasn't it?

Sam's eyes had glazed over a bit. He was murmuring to himself.

"You were happy…we were free…we were free…"

Dean thought about Lisa and Ben, missed them and the gilded bars of suburbia that contained them. But they had never been home or happy. And there was no place for them where he wanted to be, where his real home was.

"Neither of us were free, Sam." Dean reached out and pulled Sam toward him, touching him for the first time since this breakdown started. He laid his palm flat against Sam's back like he had when Sam was a baby, something fragile and precious. Dean held him tightly, but gentle. "We were just in different cages."

Whatever was coming…Dean wasn't going to say it couldn't be worse than the apocalypse or that it wasn't the end of the world because, well, it might be. But if the world was going to burn, the Winchesters would face it together and go down fighting side by side just one more time. Dean would hold Sam up and Sam would be his guide, just like before and always after.

A/N 2: Sam trying to tell Dean that Heaven and Hell couldn't use them anymore and that they had been free. He's kind of angry that Dean's put them in a position to be used again. Yeah, Sam's defiantly a bundle of unregulated emotions here so everything comes out jumbled, but I think this could be a feasible reaction to an overwhelming situation and horrific knowledge.


End file.
